


you are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you

by bellaaanovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sunflowers, Young Winchesters, flower picking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaanovak/pseuds/bellaaanovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While John is tuning up the Impala, he watches as Sam and Dean play in a field of wild sunflowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you

**Author's Note:**

> The title is Song of Solomon 4:7 NIV.
> 
> Sam is four, Dean is eight. There's no smut/romance of any kind. Just cute fluffy brothers.
> 
> This is a gift for my friend [Jackie](http://www.sammywithdean.tumblr.com), I love you bab. You're the cutest for this prompt: "sammy picking sunflowers for dean :)) & then making flower crowns for each other <3". ily.

“Sammy, what are you doing?” John called out from the car. The boys were a couple of yards away playing in a field of sunflowers while he tuned up the Impala. Before they ran off, John made Dean pinky promise to keep an eye on Sam since he was only four. _I always do, Dad,_ he’d replied cheerfully. _I always do._

“Pickin’ the flowers!” Sammy squealed. His tiny body squatted as he tried to uproot a sunflower twice his size. As far as John could tell, they were wild flowers, but somebody could still own them.

“Careful, Sam. These might belong to somebody.” Sam plopped down on the dirt in front of the flower and stared at it. Dean was sitting a few inches away from him, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands holding him up behind him. Eyes always on Sam, never anywhere else.

 

John continued to tune up the car, and when he looked back not five minutes later, they were both gone. He slammed the hood down and rushed to the trunk, grabbing a shotgun, automatically assuming the worst.

 

“Sammy! Dean!” Silence. He stepped closer to the field and cocked the gun. “ _DEAN!?_ ” A little head peeked through the mess of flowers. Fear in his eyes, Dean’s mouth gaped.

“Sammy ran off, said he saw a b-butterfly. I have his hand in my hand. I never took my eyes off him. We were right here, the whole time.” His kid wouldn’t stop staring at the gun. He knows what’s out there, why his mom died, but he’s still only eight. Before Sam saw, John threw the gun back in the trunk.

“ _Don’t_ run off next time.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

 

Sammy came bursting out of the flower stalks with tears in his eyes and John rushed over, scooping him up into his arms.

 

“You okay, kiddo?”

“The blutterfly flewed away. Too high. Couldn’t reach ‘im.” John grinned and held Sam to his chest.

“Aw, kid, that’s what butterflies do. They fly. They aren’t meant to be caught.” John gazed down at Dean carefully as he sat back on the ground. Sammy started muttering something in his ear.

“C-can you help me pick the flowers? For Dean?”

 

John laughed and agreed, setting Sam down in Dean’s arms carefully. He kneeled down in the dirt and pulled out his knife, cutting six of the smaller sunflowers off of their stalks, with a little bit of stem left to grip. He gave the bundle to Sam, and Sam handed them to Dean.

 

“For you!” Sammy’s tiny little voice hiccupped. His cheeks turned a little pink when Dean smiled.

“Hey, thanks, Sammy!” Dean grinned and turned to John.

“All his idea. I just helped.” John sat down in the dirt and smiled, watching his sons interact. It was nice to stop the hunt for a while and just relax. Sammy took one of the flowers back and tucked the stem behind his ear, then took another one and started to put it behind Dean’s. Dean reflexively batted it away and it fell to the ground.

 

Sammy _wailed._

 

“Jus’ wanna-ted to m-make y-you pretty- you like sumflowers, it felled on the _ground_!” John watched as Dean’s face fell. John stood and headed back over to the car. He leaned against it and studied them closely, studied how while Sam was sobbing unintelligibly Dean cradled him and pet his hair in an attempt to calm him down. Although it warmed John’s heart to see his son care so deeply for his little brother, he knew he couldn’t drive them to Bobby’s while Sam was this upset.

“Wear the damn flower, Dean. You can shoot all the guns and punch all the walls you want later, Mr. Man. Make your brother happy, for crying out loud.” Dean sighed and sat Sammy down in front of him.

“You wanna put the flower in my hair, Sammy?” Sam glowed and reached for the flower Dean dropped. “Aw, not that one, it’s dirty now.”

“Jus’ cause it’s dirty now don’t mean it wasn’t pretty before. Kinda like you and Daddy!”

 

Dean and John make eye contact and watch each other’s hearts break, melt, explode…Sam tucks the dirty flower behind Dean’s ear and hugs him around the neck.

 

“Come on, Sammy; let’s go back to the car. We’re gonna visit Uncle Bobby!” Dean scoops him up in his arms and Sam turns his body around to look at John as they walk. John _has_ to get a picture of this. He digs around in the trunk for the old Polaroid he got from a yard sale, and thank goodness it still has film in it. He snaps the picture before Dean can protest and when they get in the car, slides it under the front seat.

 

Years later, an emotionally compromised, terrified, and lost Dean will find that photo as he debates going to Palo Alto to see Sam. He’ll cry for an hour and a half, remembering simple times, and will break every traffic law in a rush to get to Stanford. Because John will be missing, and Dean will need Sam, just like he always has.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, no _actual_ flower crowns in this, but to be fair, sunflowers are pretty difficult to make a flower crown out of. Unless they're fake but I cannot have that.
> 
> Also if anyone is good at art, it would mean the WORLD to me if someone can draw the photo John took of the boys. It would just. I can't art. Please. Help a sista out. ~~So, I can't believe I just said sista.~~


End file.
